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[Written for the Southern Field and Fireside.]
THE SCHOLL OF LIFE.
BY WM. E. SCREVEN.
“ The low, tad music of humanity." —Wordsworth.
When tranquil twilight rules the hour,
And all the hot oppressive power
Os garish day,
With its innumerable cares,
And all its weary doubts and fears,
Fasseth away,
I love to sit beneath this yew.
And meditate, in calm review,
Life's varied chart ;
And so derive from what has been.
Os good and ill contained therein—
Food for the heart.
A ponderous volume open'd wide,
By unseen fingers at my side,
Life's drama shows.
A strange and varied Boole, it seems,
Os facts, and fancies, songs, and dreams,
Delights and woes.
First: simple sketches, clear and brief,
Os Boyhood bright—its joy, its grief,
Its deeds so brave,
Mingled with songs of childish glee,
Touch'd with an artless melody,
Our blessings crave.
When, next, to Manhood's page we turn,
“The thoughts that breathe, the words that burn,”
Leap forth like flames.
Records of deeds of high emprise,
From which the fate of nations rise,
And deathless names.
The trumpet tones of deadly strife
Peal o'er the battle-field of Life;
Within the heart,
The good and evil principle,
Bright, heavenly forms, black fiends of hell,
In conflict start
llow do the pages flash and glow,
As the quick changes ebb and flow,
In battle's tide.
Oh ! God 1 befriend the forms of Light—
Strengthen them for the raging fight—
Thy cause decide 1
The dark, and hellish stains of sin,
With Virtue's radiance mingled, in
These mystic leaves
All that Mnn does, and all he feels,
All he designs, all he conceals,
And all believes,
Are here made clear. Each sinful fall,
Each earnest heed to virtue's call,
Each tender tear,
Stands forth In living characters;
Foul, hideous blots, or glorious stars,
In turn appear.
At length, life's journey, nearly o'er,
Perchance, In sight of Death’s dim shore,
And final goal.
Songs of triumph strike the car,
Soft and sweet, yet bold and clear.
As on they roll 1
Such is the destined Scroll of Life,
Innocent joy, and weary strife,
Through all the past.
To end in victory's proudest strain,
Triumph o'er every form of pain,
And Peace, at last!
—«—
[Written for the Southern Field and Fireside.]
JACK HOPETON AND HIS FRIENDS.
OR,
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A GEORGIAN.
BY WM. W. TURNER.
CHAPTER VII.
We all know that negroes generally have very
flat, unintelligent looking features, and the
blacker the darkey, the more animal-liko the
countenance. When we see among the sons of
Ham a face indicating the existence of mind, the
bright color attendant on it almost always betrays
the admixture of European blood. Sometimes,
however, we find the unmitigated blackness of
complexion belonging to the African, together
with the promiuent nose and general appearance
of humanity, which characterize the Caueassian
race.
Negroes so distinguished are smart and
shrewd, to an astonishing degree; and, too fre
quently, they are scoundrels, in proportion to
their intelligence. Occasionally, though, they
are faithful and honest. It may well be imagin
ed that, in this case, they aro invaluable.
My man Howard belonged to this latter class.
He was strictly honest—and those who know
negroes are well aware that stealing pre
vails among them to a greater extent than any
other crime. I could trust him with any thing.
We were raised together, and he was my play
mate from the time 1 could crawl. He not only
served me as a master, but assisted me with the
affection duo a friend. As a valet, I never had
to chide him, for he had all a negios pride, and
delighted in seeing me so dressed as to excel
my associates.
In a word, his happiness seemed to consist in
anticipating my wishes and supplying my wants.
Being apt —remarkably quick of perception—
wherever I went, into whatever new society or
mode of life, he soon learned every thing neces
sary to comfort and convenience, and that in all
the shorter time, because he applied himself to
it voluntarily, as to the acquirement of an ac
complishment. This may account for the eulo
gium 'bestowed on him—and which he richly de
served—by Captain Preston.
A short time after our first meeting with the
buffalo, we halted for another day.
“Jack,” ?. ’ Tom Harper, “suppose we have
our horses saddled, and take a hunt.”
“ What sliall we hunt ?” I asked.
“ Oh, any thing we can find—deer, buffalo,
wild horse, panther, or Indian.”
“As to the last three, I don’t see that we can
do much with them. The panthers or the In
dians either, might prove troublesome customers,
and wild horses would laugh at us.”
“Ah, you’ve never seen me threw the lasso?”
“ No.”
“ Then, I hope you will see it to-day.”
“Why, Tom, I had no idea you possessed
this accomplishment, although I have already
learned to look on you as an Admirable Crich
ton.”
“ You do not know how ambitious J am,
Jack. In all my wanderings, I have endeavored
to learn those things best calculated to win ap
plause. At college, I pored over Greek and
Latin. Entering on fashionable life, I studied
dancing, music, the art of dressing, and all those
little things, to excel in which gives one a name
among the irnniti of society. Among the fast
young men, I learned billiards, 4c. Shooting, I
always loved, and horsemanship is as natural to
a Southerner as walking. When I commenced
backwoods life, my shooting was the only thing
which excited the admiration of my companions.
They looked on good riding as a matter of
course. So I set myself to work to acquire
all sorts of frontier accomplishments. Skill with
the lasso is highly regarded by prairie men.”
“ Well. what kind of arms shall we carry?”
BU 80VCKX1I SW VXBSBX9S.
“ Rifles, and the rest, of eeurse, Congo." con
tinued Toni, addressing his servant, an old cam
paigner , “saddle the Burnt Tail for me, and Black
Paddy for yourself. See if the guns want clean
ing ; though I think they do not."
“ They are in first rate order, sir,” answered
Congo, “ but I’ll rub ’em up a little.”
“ Get my trappings ready, too, Howard,” said
I; “ just such as Congo prepares for his master.”
“ You’ll take Howard along, wont you, Jack?”
“ Certainly.”
“ Hinks,” said Tom, addressing the old hunts
man, “ we are going to leave every thing in your
charge, while we, like gallant knights, go forth
in quest of adventure.”
“All right,” was the reply; “I’ll take good
care of every thing here—better care, I’m afraid,
than you two youngsters ’ll take of yourselves.”
“What! you old goose! don’t I know as
much as you do?”
“ Perhaps you may.”
“ Well, can’t you take care of yourself?"
“Sometimes.”
“ Well, what on earth are you talking about ?
Ah! you’re sullen I see.”
“You are mistaken. I aintso sullen as not
to warn a man who has befriended me, when I
see him about to go into danger—if he does speak
cross to me.”
“ I beg your pardon, Hinks. But what is it,
man ? We want to go.”
“ Well, I suppose you know we’ve got to the
Injun country.”
“ I supposed we were very near it.”
“ Seems to me, then, that’s enough to keep
you from going off by yourself."
“By myself? Why, Jack Ilopeton is going,
and his man Howard, and ray man Congo.”
“ I believe, from what I’ve seen of Mr. Jack
Ilopeton, that lie’ll do to tie to; but then lie’s
monstrous young and tender.”
“Don’t be uneasy on mv account, friend
Hinks,” said I, rather tartly. “I beat you kill
ing deer, any way.”
“So you did, but ’twant nothin but the devil’s
luck helped you to do it.”
“ 1 told you, old fellow, that I stalked my deer
fairly and squarely, and now, ‘darn ye!’ you talk
about luck.”
"One of’em you did. but I wonder if I didu't
drive ’tother right into the muzzle of your gun?”
“Yes, you did, after letting the prettiest sort
of a chance slip, without killing any thing.”
•‘Como, Jack," broke in Tom, “there’s no
use talking to that jealous old cock any long
er. The horses are-ready; let’s go.”
The steeds were standing some distance oft’,
ready saddled, and we started towards them.
“ Have you got a lasso for me, Tom ?” I
asked.
“Yes,” was the reply; “I thought you’d as
well begin to learn now, as any time.”
“ Mr. Tom Harper,’ interrupted llinks, once
more, “I’ve got something to say to you.”
“Well,” said Tom, irritated, “why don't you
speak out. I’ve been trying all the time to get
you to disgorge."
“ Jim Shirley has got leave to go hunting to
day."
“Who?” said Tom, quickly, turning pale.
“ Jim Shirley.”
“ Where is Jim Shirley?”
“ Here, in camp. He’s one of the rangers.”
“ Why, I’ve seen them all, and Jim Shirley is
not among them.”
“ Ho is.”
“Which is he?”
“ It s that dark, mean-looking scamp, with the
long gray beard, and only one eye.”
“Indeed! Well, I’ve caught that one eye
fixed on me several times, and now I recollect
that each time it set me to thinking, though it
always looked away as soon as I encountered it
steadily. I believe, now, that you are right.”
“ I know I’m right; hut I want to have some
private chat with you.”
“ Speak out. I’m willing for Jack to hear all
about it.”
“ Well I’ve known Jim all the while, and ”
“ Why didn’t you tell me before now that lie
was in the company ?”
“ Because he told me he would behave him
self, and let you alone; so I thought, as long as
ho kept his promise, telling you about his being
along would do no good; but it seems you rode
by him 'tother day and killed the buffalo ho was
after, and that little thing raised his Irish again.
I was close to him, and heard him swear that
he’d cut your comb tho first time ho caught you
away from the camp, after we got among the
Injuns, so every body would think they done it.
Well, last night he was prowling about, and
heei'd you say you was goin, out to-day, and he
went right straight to Captain Preston, and got
leave to go too.’’
“We’ll watch out for the gentleman, then,”
said Tom.
“ I wish you wouldn’t go out. You know
what a devil Jim Shirley is when he gets start
ed.”
“Yes; and that is why he must be settled. I
shall go now just to give him a chance to com
mence his game. I'm tired of him, and if he is
not careful, he'll get his quietus to-day.
“Ifwe are going, then,” said I, “let’s be off.”
“ Every man knows his own business best,”
again spoke our old hunter. “ I’ve warned ye,
and I ’spose you’ll do your own way.”
“You know what you’d do, Hinks,”answered
Tom, “if you were in my place. You'd never
shirk; and you can’t expect me to do it. Much
obliged to you for your warning, though.”
“Well, let one of these darkies stay at the
tent, and let mo go with you. I may do some
good.”
“ I would, but for one thing. If Jim Shirley
sees you with us he wont attack me. I want
him to do whatever he is intending, to-day.—
The thing must be settled. He shall dog mo no
longer.”
We mounted and rode off towards the South,
where Tom said we should find some wooded
hills. We passed by the rangers, and saw the
one-eyed fellow putting his rifle together, hav
ing, apparently, just cleaned it. Looking back
as we went on, we saw him following us with
his eye, and when we had left the camp a
quarter of a mile, he also got on his horse, and
galloped off in the direction contrary to that we
had taken.
“It all works right,” said my companion.—
“ That scoundrel knows the geography of this
country well, and is fully aware of my destina
tion. Ho will be at the hills before us, wait
ing to shoot me down.”
“You look a little mystified, Jack,” he con
tinued, “and I’ll enlighten you, in a few words.
Once, in the course of my frontier adventures,
this man Shirley, a violent drunken bully, in a
fit of intoxication, was offering insult to a pretty
Indian maiden whom I had seen several times,
selling moccasins, and in whose favor I had been
prepossessed, by her simple grace and modesty
of demeanor. It happened that the girl’s lover
was present, and although boiling with indig
nation, he feared to resent, in a becoming man
ner, in the presence of so many white men, the
indignity offered by Shirley.
“ Still, he could not help rushing in between
his sweetheart and the overbearing white man.
Enraged at tills, Shirley presented his rifie, and
a moment more would have beheld the Indian
a corpse. I happened to be in rather a desper
ate mood that day, and. besides, my natural
sense of justice would not allow me to witness
cold-blooded butchery; so, just as the brute
pulled the trigger of his rifle, I struck the latter
up, and the bullet whistled over the head of the
intended victim.
“Without a word, the baffled murderer turned
on me with his clubbed gun. If I had been in
a good humor, I should have sprung out of his
way and showed lum the muzzle of my repeater,
to keep him at bay. As it was—you have
seen that I am rather muscular —when he
raised his arm to strike, I caught it in that
position with my left hand, and with my right
inserted about three inches of a bowie-knife
into his side.
“He struggled and drew another bowie. I
saw he was in earnest, and believed I should be
forced to kill him, but just then, the by-standers
interfered and stopped the proceedings.
“I thought that when he got sober, he would
lie willing to drop the matter, but instead of that
he swore vengeance on me. He went off, though,
soon after, and I did not know what had be
come of him. He has turned up again, now, and
I don’t think I’ll be annoyed by him any longer.”
“ Look! look! marss Jack,” exclaimed How
ard, at this juncture: —“look at the horses!’’
“Sure enough 1” said Tom. “Take my rifle,
Congo. Now, Jack, follow me.”
Off he went, and I, giving my gun to Howard,
followed his example. We were by far the best
mounted men in the company. In fact our
horses were almost thorough-bred, so we felt
confident of overtaking the fleetest wild steed
on the prairies. The objects of our chase were
quietly grazing, with their heads turned from us,
when we started, and we got very near before
they were aware of our approach. Suddenly,
they threw up their heads, and turned to gaze.
A moment they stood with distended nostrils,
and manes waving in the breeze, as if to satisfy
themselves of our intentions.
Nothing could present a nobler appearance
than did these free, wild denizens of the prairies,
as they stood thus, beholding the intruders on
their domain. I was surprised that they allowed
us to lido so close; but finally they wheeled and
thundered off over the plain. Tom selected a
dappled gray, the finest looking horse in the
herd, and pressed after him.
“ You see that black colt. Jack?” said he.
“ Yes."
“Well, put after him."
“ Never mind; I know I can’t do any thing
with him, so I’ll follow you, and see your opera
tion.”
“ Come on, then.”
The buffalo chase was exciting enough; but so
far as pace was concerned, it was slow, com
pared with this. We soon passed most of the
lierd, and they scattered in different directions;
but in spite of the blood we rode, the gallant
gray still kept ahead.
“ He’s making for the hills, Jack, and if he
gets there I’ll give him up, for I must be looking
out for Jim Shirley when we get there.”
“ How far are the hills?” I asked
“About a mile.”
“Well, we are gaining a little.”
“ I Indieve we are. Get up, Burnt Tail 1”
We were now closing the gap between us
and our “ game," and soon were near enough
for Tom to twirl his lasso, He threw it once
and missed, because the gray dodged. Again,
it just hung on one ear. The third time the
wild horse was noosed.
“ Now, Jack, if you want some of the fun,”
said Tom, “ let me give you the end of this rope.”
“ Willingly,” I answered.
But this was easier said than done, for the
touch of the lasso had got a new rate of speed
out of the frightened gray, and as we all three
were tearing along at a killing pace, Tom, in
trying to give me the end of his thong, dropped
it.
“ Just let me see if I can’t pick it up,” said I.
“ Go it, then, but give me yours.”
“ Here it is.”
A hard struggle I had for it, but finally suc
ceeded. A few more bounds, and Tom, riding
on the side opposite me, threw the other lasso.
Then commenced a regular row. Tom was an old
hand, and knew how to jerk and tease
a horse into submission ; but he said he had
never lassoed so powerful an animal, and, though
there was no chance for the horse to get away,
he afforded us plenty of sport and exercise.
We worried him down, however, and turned
toward the camp. Meeting our servants, Tom
gave his captive to Congo to carry back, and wc
dismounted to breathe our tired horses. Once
more we started toward the hills.
“I think,” said Tom, “we could find deer here,
or, perhaps, a panther, but that scoundrel has
spoiled our hunt for to-day.”
“Wouldn’t it lie best,” I asked, “to take Hinks
before the Captain, let him give information, and
arrest your man ?”
“No,” answered my companion, in a calm tone;
but his eye flashed and his lips were pressed
closely. “No; that would be temporizing.—
I would not trouble myself to explain the thing
to every one; but I rather think you and I are
destined to become friends, and I am anxious
that you shall understand me. The fact is, al
though I pass for a courageous man, I am afraid
for Shirley to live. lam uneasy while he con
tinually threatens my life.”
“Well,” answered I, “you have doubtless
looked at the matter in every light, and are more
competent to decide what is your best course,
than I am, so I say no more.”
We soon came to the hills.
“I must ride round, and see where the hound
has passed,” said Tom.
“ Can I help you ?” enquired I.
“Yes. But Congo can help you to help me.
Let Howard go with me, while you take my ser
vant, and pass round in the other direction ; but
don’t enter the wood. Let a rifle shot be the
signal that tiie trail is found.”
We parted company, taking different direc
tions. Congo and I iooked eagerly for horse
tracks, but found none. Soon the sharp crack
of a rifle was heard, and at the signal, we retraced
our steps, continuing round, in the direction in
which Tom had started. We found the latter,
with Howard, sitting on his horse, some distance
from the foot of the first hill.
“Here is where our man passed,” said he, as
Congo and I rode up.
“I can’t say that 1 see the sign,” was my reply,
as I looked with all my might, “How the mis
chief can you see a horse’s track in this long
grass ?’’
“Congo, can’t you show Mr. Hopeton the trail ?”
“Yes, sir,” answered the darkey. “Here it is,
sir,” he continued, placing his hand upon the
exact spots vhere the hoofs had crushed the
herbage.
“I must acknowledge,” said I, “that if Congo
had not gone with me to look for ‘signs,’ I should
have done a poor business at it.”
“So I knew,” said my friend.
“But what will you do now ?”
“Do you see that large tree, yonder, with the
branches sweeping the ground, surrounded by
an almost impenetrable thicket ?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Shirley’s horse is tied under it.”
“How do you know that ?”
“Because he neighed, when I first rode up,
and I saw the branches shake. The assassin
dog thought we would enter on the side next the
camp, and so he came all the way round here to
fasten his horse.”
“Do you suppose lie is also under the same
cover?”
“Not now. After hiding his horse, as lie
thought, he commenced ranging the hills on foot,
seeking an opportunity to slay me.”
“I don't know that I exactly understand your
intention, Tom. Do you intend to poke along
through the woods, and let this fellow shoot you
like a dog ?”
“There’s nothing farther from my intention.
I expected to send you all on ahead to drive the
wood, making a noise to draw Shirley out of
cover, while I followed behind, at a distance suf
ficient to prevent his being frightened out of his
intention by you. If I had gone before, you
know, he might have shot me down like a dog,
sure enough. After you had gone ahead a good
way, I should have attracted my gentleman’s at
tention, and then, ‘each man for himself, and God
over all.’ ”
“But I have a better plan than that,” contin
ued Tom. “We wasted so much time after that
wild-horse, that Shirley has doubtless grown
tired waiting for me. No doubt he heard my ri
fle, and will soon be back this way. You, then,
must ride past that point in the wood, conceal
yourselves, and wait the event. If you are in
sight, no attack will me made.”
“Surely, though, you are not going to stand
here, and wait for that fellow to take a fair shot
at you ?”
“Can’t I get behind my horse ? lam obliged
to you for your solicitude, Jack, but you
are young yet. I am an old stager, and know
how to take care of myself.”
It was useless to say more, and I went to take
the station assigned me, managing to conceal
myself, and still have a full view of Toni and
the place where he had told me the horse was
hidden. Soon after I had reached tho stand,
my friend seemed to change his plan a little, for
he rode some distance down the line of forest,
and entered it, passing out of my sight. Gazing
with painful intensity, I soon saw the face of the
sinister-looking dog, Shirley, peering from tho
afore-mentioned thicket. He looked round cau
tiously and anxiously.
While he was reconnoitering, I saw Tom
Harper emerge from liis retreat, and walk a step
or two into the prairie, gazing intently on' the
ground. Shirley saw him at the same moment,
and instinctively raised his rifle. Mine was
brought up full as quickly, but the distance
was too great for either of us to do any execu
tion, and this was perceived by the skulking
scoundrel, who immediately lowered his piece,
and slunk back.
Tom began to approach the spot where his en
emy was concealed. I could stand it no longer,
and commenced crawling towards the scene of
action. But, though one would have said that
Tom was merely looking for a trail, as he kept
his eyes fixed on the ground, I noticed that he
entered the wood again, before he came within
the range of Shirley’s rifle.
When I finally halted, the thicket was almost
impenetrable to the eye ; but a little way off,
the woods were much more open. Happening
to look in that direction, wlmt was my astonish
ment, to see a hideous-looking Indian, crouch
ing behind the trunk of a huge tree, and
watching the spot where Shirley was lurking.—
Here was a situation ! The ranger, concealed,
as he thought, waiting his opportunity to send
his leaden messenger of death to the heart of the
man he hated ; that man, conscious of liis in
tention, and endeavoring to draw his fire ; the
Indian, apparently, seeking an opportunity to
steal upon the would-be-assassirf, while I, hidden
from all three, viewed the movements of all.
Presently, the Indian crept stealthily from his
tree, and moved towards Shirley’s post. Soon
a thicket intervened between him and me, and I
could no longer see him. At the spot where
Tom was last seen by me, the branches of the
trees were occasionally shaken, and sometimes a
hand, or the skirt of a coat, protruded itself into
view. So intent was Shirley on watching all
these manifestations, that an army might have
come upon him unawares.
At last, he once more slowly raised his rifle.
Never in my life was I more agitated. I did
not wish to kill the man, but I was unwilling
for him to have a shot at n.y friend, although I
believe the latter knew what he was about, and
was probably trying to draw the enemy’s fire by
exhibiting his cap, or some other part of his dress,
as a target. I was a good marksman, however,
and almost resolved to prevent the possibility of
murder, by aiming a bullet at the body of Shir
ley.
While I was debating the question with my
self, the clear report of a rifie echoed through
the wood, and Jim Shirley, leaping straight up
ward, fell at full length on the ground. A glance
showed me whence this diversion had come. A
slight wreath of smoke was curling round the
thicket where I had last seen the Indian, and it
was not long before his form emerged from its
concealment, and approached the body of the
fallen white man.
At the same time, Tom and I started toward
the scene of action, I thinking there could
hardly bo much danger in an Indian, with an
empty rifle, against two men as well provided
with fire-arms as we were. With brandished
tomahawk, tho red man continued to approach
his fallen foe, when, just as he reached the spot,
lie perceived us. Apparently, he determined
not to lose the trophy of his exploit; so, hastily
drawing his scalping knife, he tore the reeking
scalp from the head of the luckless Shirley, and,
springing to one side, bounded off with the speed
of an antelope, at the same time raising liis hor
rid war-whoop.
I waited to see what action Tom would take.
At first, he leaned on his rifle, gazing at the form
of the Indian, as he darted off through the
thicket; but when that fierce yell rang on the
air, ho brought liis rifle quickly to his face, and
fired. The dusky warrior sped on, unharmed.
The trees stood far too thick, even for Tom's skill.
My chance was better, as but few trees were in
the space between me and the course taken by
the red skin. I followed my friend’s example,
and sent a bullet after our flying foe. Unlike
tho first, it did execution, for the Indian clapped
his hand to his side, stumbled to liis knees, re
covered himself, ran blindly and staggeringly
a few paces, stumbled again, and—fell prostrate.
“Well done, Jack I” cried Tom. “You are
as good a shot as any of us; and then, you are
the luckiest mortal in the world.”
“But, why did you shoot at him?” I inquired,
“ when lie had just killed the man who was try
ing to assassinate you ?”
“ Because the devil raised that infernal war
whoop. Ho was merely a scout, and his party
will be on us in a twinkling. Load your rifle,
and to horse! Quick!”
We loaded as quickly as the prospect of an
encounter with an Indian war-party could force
us.
“Now,” said Tom, “get on Charley’s back as
soon as may be, and ride for the camp.”
I hastened toward the spot where I had left the
negroes; and, as I did so, heard the tramp of a
party of horse galloping through the forest—
Soon after, the yells of a troop of Indians impart
ed unnatural speed to my footsteps. As I struck
out into the plain, accompanied by Congo and
Howard, I heard a war-whoop in answer to that
of the p irty coming down the hill. Looking in the
direction whence it came, what was my horror
to see a dozen mounted warriors sweeping round
the very spot where Tom had tied his horse;
and, worse still, I Baw the latter, having broken
loose, scouring acrosg the prairie.
The party beliina came rushing down like a
whirlwind, having caught a glimpse of us through
the trees. I thought of the terrible fate which
awaited my friend, provided he fell into the
hands of the savages, and how recreant it would
be in me to leave him. I turned my horse’s
head toward the wood. A moment’s reflection,
however, convinced me that, by remaining, I
should merely bring destruction on my own
head, without the least chance of rescuing Tom.
I saw the Indians dive into the wood, and soon
knew, by their shouts of exultation, that they
had effected a capture.
Not a moment was* to be lost. Regard for
my own safety urged me to place as great a dis
tance as possible between myself and the blood
thirsty wretches in pursuit of me; and the
thought that the only chance to save Tom’s life
was by bringing the rangers to his aid, speeded
my flight. For my own safety, I felt little ap
prehension, as I knew that the mustangs would
be easily shaken off by the blooded animals rid
den by myself and the negroes. The Indianp,
as they came tearing and yelling in our rear,
soon perceived this, and, discharging their rifles
at us, they gave up the pursuit.
Turning to look at them, my first impulse was
to give a random shot; but the thought that it
might exasperate them to treat their captive
with greater cruelty than they otherwise would,
restrained me; and I galloped on. Arrived at
the camp, I hurriedly told our adventure to Cap
tain Preston, and entreated that he would order
the rangers to the rescue. It needed no urging
to induce the excellent Captain to issue hasty or
ders.
“What was the number of Indians?” he
asked.
“As nearly as I could judge,” was my answer,
“ about thirty in all. Certainly not more.”
“ Then forty of us will go. They must see
that resistance will be useless, in order for us to
rescue Tom alive.”
“ But they have a long way the start of us,
Captain.”
“ That is true, and I am uneasy about poor
Tom; but we must ‘hope on. hope over.’ ”
“We soon started, I on a fresh horse, and went
thundering along at a rapid pace. The idea that
we might not be able to overtake the sav
ages, or that they might take a notion to torture
their captive before we could .interfere in his
behalf, rendered me almost frantic, and I could
see that although Captain Preston maintained a
calm exterior, it was at the cost of a mighty ef
fort.
“ Poor Tom !” said he, “ I have lost several
brothers in my life ; but even their death did not
afflict me more than would that of my bosom
friend.”
“ Let us not talk of it, Captain,” I said; “ but
do urge the troop a little faster.”
“All our horses are not thorough-bred, Jack;
and the speed is now as great as they can l>ear,
considering the distance they have to go.”
“ I know you are right. lam half crazy,
though, at the idea that even now they may be
preparing the stake for our friend.”
“ They will not precipitate the matter. In
dians are never in hasto to deal with their cap
tives. They will take him to their camp, and
hold a grand pow-uxno before they decide on his
fate.”
“ But, Captain, how will we bo able to know’
the course they take ?”
“ Oh, the trail made by such a party will be
so plain, a child might follow it. But, see yon
der, Jack! A horseman comes galloping to
wards us.”
“ Sure enough.”
We both gazed eagerly. Our pace was not
slackened, and the man on horse-bark neared us
rapidly. His appearance was familiar, and I
turned to direct an inquiring glance toward the
Captain. He had turned to me for the same pur
pose.
“I hardly dare ask, Jack,” said he, “but is it
— can it be—Tom ?”
“Ido believe it is,” an wered I, “or some
one vastly like him.”
(to be continued.)
Origin of the Prairies.— Professor Wilber,
State Geologist of Illinois, has recently delivered
a series of admirable lectures on his favorite
science. We copy from the Genesee Republic
the following abstract of his theory on the origin
and formation of the prairies :
Prof. Wilber adopts the theory that at one
time—very far back in its history—this vast
country formed a portion of the bottom of the
ocean—that through the eruption caused by the
internal heat together with the labor and activity
of those master masons, the coral insects, our
continent was raised to its pjpsent position above
the water. To prove this bold proposition he
refers to the many indicia of salt water presence,
the frequent occurrence of shells which legiti
mately only belong to animals of the sea—the
evidence furnished by the rocks of the labor of
the zoophytes, unmistakable in its development;
the frequent discovery of the remains of mons
ters of the sea deep imbedded in our limestono
system, the existence upon our surface of huge
boulders, the former appanages of polar shores,
drifted far away to the Southw’cst imbedded in
huge frames of ice, and dropped down at length
upon the ocean’s bed, whence they arose with
our continent. The arguments, if not quite con
clusive, are eminently suggestive, and should
open the eyes of thinking men to the wondrous
mysteries buried deep in the earth upon which
we so familiarly tread.
The existence of our prairies is accounted for
in this wise : Ihe result of the “ drift system”
was to give to this part of the country a soil of
unparalleled fertility, and, arising from this, were
the very large grasses, which are peculiar to
this soil alone; luxuriant, and undisturbed, they
grew to a great height, and fairly wove the sur
face of the earth with a thick, almost impenetra
ble covering. In the autumn, when this mass
of .combustible matter was dry, how easy for a
shaft of lightning to send a conflagration from
one boundary of the country to the other. The
sprouting twigs of sturdier growth would perish
by the frequent occurrence of these fires, and
hence the treeless appearance of the West. To
aid the idea, it is claimed that the Indians, when
they did arrive, which is supposed to have been
long subsequent to the first period mentioned,
regularly burned the prairie grasses, for the pur
pose of driving the game into more circumscribed
quarters, so that it might full an easy prey to
their arrows, and to lesson the difficulty of
travelling.— Life Illustrated.
“ Sure enough.”